Warren didn’t know how things turned out like this. As he and Elektra walked through the hallway, the neon lights in their purple and pinks swirled around them intimately, designed to entice and seduce, but for Warren this only gave him a sense of unease, his eyes flitting between the walls unsure of himself. The place had an eerie feel about it. He tried to reason with himself that it was just empty, but the distant hum of air conditioning and the occasional creak of the wooden floorboards didn’t help. Only a few lights illuminated the space, leaving the darkness to creep against the walls.

It made sense after all. The late afternoon meant that no one would be in here. Oasis was more than likely a lively venue throbbing with music and lights, but now an empty husk, Warren felt his energy being drained with each footstep. He turned to see Elektra, also perturbed. He had never seen her like this. She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes, making him think she was battling some internal demon.

The day Elektra had recruited him to join her was odd, well, odd for her. He practically didn’t have a choice with the way she had dragged him along, without telling him any real details.

“We’re gonna go get Vincent.”

“Okay?”

And here they were, scared shitless of an empty club. He had followed her without question. He appreciated the feeling of being needed, but now, as they approached the heart of the club, doubt crept into his mind.

They finally reached a large, open hall, completely devoid of any sound. The dance floor was a barren expanse, besides littering of plastic cups and packaging, the DJ booth in the corner dark and lifeless. Tables and chairs lay scattered haphazardly around the room, as if someone had abandoned them in a hurry. To the side, near the far wall, Warren noticed a bar that had seen better days. Scratches and booze stains marred the counter, and a few glasses sat upside down on the table’s surface. Broken glass lay scattered around the table and floor.

But it wasn’t the state of the bar that caught his attention. It was the man slumped on a stool behind it, his head face first against the counter, a bottle of clear liquid clutched in his hand. His long mop-like hair covered his face as he seemed to be passed out. Warren instantly recognized him, even without seeing his face.

VIncent.

Vincent was nursing what Warren assumed to be vodka, though it was hard to tell for sure. The contents of the bottle were about halfway gone, and its label had been worn away. The sight of many empty bottles around him was hardly appealing, each one likely containing an excessive amount of alcohol. Warren’s heart sank at the sight. How had this all happened?

Vincent had always been a good man. Vincent drank minimally and was dedicated to becoming an expert hunter. Now all Warren could see was someone who lost their way, drowning in alcohol.

Elektra was the first to speak. “Vincent,” she called out bluntly. “You’re a mess.”

Warren couldn’t help but facepalm. He gave his sister an incredulous look. The lack of tact she showed made her seem so emotionally dense. Well, to be fair, she probably was. Maybe that’s why she had brought him along. Elektra shrugged upon receiving Warren’s stare, as if telling him. “What? I’m just saying it, how it is.”

Before Warren could even speak and apologize for Elektra’s behavior, Vincent raised his head, that was planted on the counter, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. When he finally looked at them, Warren could see that he was far more than just drunk, he was broken. His usually sharp blue eyes were bloodshot, and the dark circles under them suggested he hadn’t slept in days. His long, curly cyan hair hung limply around his face, disheveled. Warren realized that his thick beard, which he must have grown recently, was unkempt. He wore a wrinkled white shirt and slacks, his feet clad in scuffed loafers that looked like they hadn’t left this place in days.

“What… what are you doing here?” Vincent slurred, his voice rough and thick with alcohol. He swayed slightly on the stool, his grip on the bottle tightening as if it were the only thing keeping him upright.

Elektra stepped forward, trying to feign some semblance of kindness. “We came to take you home. You need to stop this, Vincent. The family needs you.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Vincent let out a bitter laugh, though it sounded more like a pained gasp. He turned his head away, staring down at the bottle in his hand as if it held the answers to all his problems. “I don’t want to go home. I don’t want… anything. I just want to die.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, Warren felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. He exchanged a quick glance with Elektra, but she was already moving closer to Vincent, her expression hardening.

“Forget about that damn whore and the bastard,” Elektra snapped, her voice laced with anger. “Just move on.”

Warren frowned, her words stirring a question in his mind. He hesitated, then quietly asked, “Who… who are you talking about? Who’s the bastard?” The word `bastard` wasn’t exactly something that Warren welcomed, considering the connotation and his birth. That word branded him ever since he was born.

Elektra shot him an annoyed look, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “You don’t need to know,” she hissed, barely above a whisper. Then she turned back to Vincent. “Come on, Vincent. We need to leave. Get up.”

Before Elektra ruined everything Warren needed to act, he took a tentative step forward, trying to find the right words to reach Vincent. He spoke softly as he could muster.

“Vincent…You’ve been through a lot. I can see that. But drinking yourself to death isn’t the answer. We’re here for you. Let us help.” Warren prayed he was saying the right things, not knowing the full situation made it difficult to empathize with his older brother.

As he spoke, he noticed the deep lines wrought with weariness on Vincent’s face that seemed to weigh him down. His eye bags were heavy; the tears which had been silently rolling down his cheeks stopped when Warren touched his shoulder. But instead of calming him, which Warren had hoped would happen, the contact seemed to ignite something dark inside Vincent.

“Don’t touch me!”

Vincent shrugged off Warren’s hand and shouted with rage so loud it startled his brother. He then twisted his body and pushed him away, the force sending Warren stumbling to the floor.

Warren couldn’t understand why he responded like that, as he tried to get back up. As he pushed himself up, with an exhale of annoyance, he wasn’t sure how to respond to his brother’s act of rage, but he needed to maintain a friendly demeanor. But just as he was going to stand fully upright and force a smile, Warren’s eyes met with an intense blue glow. Vincent’s eyes.

He had activated his Esper powers.

A shimmering wall of electricity enveloped around Vincent’s fingertips, the air buzzing with its intense energy. He grunted and pushed his arms forward. The barrier pulsed in response, its edges flaring with lightning, as it edged closer towards Warren. There was no time to react, no time to even think. The rising electricity in the air caused Warren’s arm hairs to prickle with unease.

Just as Warren had thought, he was going to be turned to ash. Out of nowhere, Elektra was there, moving with incredible speed, her body enveloped in lightning. Just as the barrier fell, she pushed Warren aside, narrowly avoiding its impact. A shockwave pulsed through the room, the floor beneath them fracturing and burning from the intense heat. A pungent mixture of scorched wood and ozone hung thick in the air, that all three siblings had grown accustomed to.

“Vincent!” Elektra shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. “You could’ve killed him!”

Vincent, his expression twisted with anger and pain. He glared at Warren, his chest heaving as he struggled to control the power surging through him. “He deserved it. If she has to die, he should, too.” Vincent spat, his voice low and dangerous. He charged another barrier, the blue light in his eyes growing more intense.

“Vin, stop!” Elektra pleaded, stepping in front of Warren, her hands raised as if to shield him. “This isn’t you. Please, just stop.”

Vincent sneered, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “Step aside, Elektra,” he growled. “Be a good little sister and step aside.”

The air grew thick with tension, the crackling of electricity the only sound as the three of them stood frozen in a dangerous standoff. Warren’s mind raced, trying to think of anything he could say or do to defuse the situation. But before he could, a voice shouting from the hallway broke the silence.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

All three of them turned to see Sabir running into the room, his brow furrowed in worry. Sabir’s eyes locked with Vincents. Sabir’s arrival instantly drained the fight out of Vincent. The glow in his eyes faded, and the barrier of energy flickered and died. He stood there for a moment, trembling, before his legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to the floor.

“Cynthia…,” Vincent whispered, his voice broken and barely audible. His shoulders shook with sobs, and he buried his face in his hands, the last remnants of his defiance crumbling away.

Sabir approached cautiously, his eyes flicking between Warren, Elektra, and the sobbing figure on the floor. “What… what happened?” he asked, still trying to piece together the scene in front of him.

Elektra sighed, her shoulders slumping as the adrenaline that had been fueling her finally faded and the electricity surrounding her along with it. “I didn’t think Warren would set him off,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with exhaustion. She looked down at Vincent, her expression softening. “Vin, are you okay?”

Warren stared at the broken man on the floor, feeling a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite sort through. Fear, pity, anger, all of it swirled together in his mind. He didn’t know what had driven Vincent to this point, but he knew one thing for sure: they couldn’t leave him like this.

He needed help.